


In Error (Last One Standing Remix)

by Nununununu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: (Or is it?), (maybe), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Capgras Delusion For Droids, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Post-Canon, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: K-2SO is brought back online. Rebooted from an earlier copy without a say in the matter, made before leaving for Scarif. Even as his systems start, something seems inexplicably incorrect.
Relationships: Cassian Andor & K-2SO
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8
Collections: Remix Revival 2020 Madness





	In Error (Last One Standing Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Last One Standing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346411) by [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras) in the [remixmadness2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2020) collection. 



> A remix inspired by the idea that K-2SO is revived after Scarif and is informed Cassian didn't survive, as in Shadaras' excellent fic.
> 
> (Originally posted 14.10; updated for author reveals)

Cassian is dead.

K-2SO is brought back online. Rebooted from an earlier copy without a say in the matter, made before leaving for Scarif. Even as his systems start, something seems inexplicably incorrect.

Initial scans come back within acceptable parameters, if on a temporary basis. The chassis is not his own, but with certain adjustments, it could be. Someone has at least arranged his internal hardware in close to his preferred order. A quick estimation returns a regrettably low chance of organic Rebel techs having learned to listen to the recommendations of synthetics regarding their own bodies. As such the person to make the adjustments must have been –

No. Cassian is dead.

All of K-2’s predictive capabilities return a high likelihood of this, given the circumstances in which this backup had been made. Therefore he must confirm it.

“Where is Cassian?” Unplugging himself from the charging unit with servos only slightly clumsy from need of further calibration, he turns impatiently towards the tech staring at him as if struck.

“Really?” K-2 doesn’t resist the impulse to roll his optics at both the reaction and lack of answer. Why the Rebellion insists on employing organics who cannot cope with the concept of sentient synthetics as droid technicians is both baffling and infuriating.

The man flinches as if at the word.

“K–” He makes an attempt to speak, but K-2 abruptly discovers he can’t stand to hear anyone else say his designation right now. Not when even simply this initial letter spoken in an unfamiliar voice is enough to resonate in his circuits with the reminder of –

“ _Where is Cassian?_ ” Cutting the tech off, he demands with added emphasis.

“I –” A mixture of emotions flash across the tech’s face, a sight K-2 doesn’t care to devote processing power to determine, given he clearly has no use for this man, “ _Cassian_ is –”

For all Cassian would probably be displeased, K-2 has no time for organic dithering and dramatics.

His processor aches with excess power being shunted through his wiring as if there’s a glitch in his code. Marking his analytical programming and several related subroutines for later inspection, he goes to leave the small repair room predominantly containing stolen KX parts, ignoring the way the man shoots to his feet behind him, whatever tool he was using dropping with a clang on the floor.

“K-2SO?” A familiar voice this time seeks to summon his attention as he swivels around to stalk towards the door.

Mon Mothma stands there, her hands folded in front of her, a frustratingly uninterpretable expression on her face as she looks from K-2 to the tech and then back again. Not who he wants to see and not who he had predicted encountering in such a place, but at least she might be more effective in producing answers.

“He’s dead,” K-2 determines when Mon Mothma is seated in her office and he’s standing at the other side of her desk.

“Most of your team didn’t survive Scarif,” There is an increase of moisture in Mon Mothma’s eyes. For all he has no care for organic fluids, K-2 is aware that this denotes emotion. She folds her hands in front of her on the desk this time, “But Cassian –”

Cassian is dead.

“I will report to duty when my skills are required,” K-2’s new vocabulator sounds unfamiliar to his own audio sensors. This is only to be expected. As before, he turns to go.

“K-2SO, you must have seen him,” Mon Mothma claims, or something equally absurd.

That inept tech? Ridiculous.

“You are delusional,” Cassian would definitely scold him for saying this. Although, then again, K-2 had used to say a lot of things Cassian probably should have scolded him for, but the man had not.

He doesn’t bother to open any memory files in order to determine that while there had been a perturbing visual likeness to that tech, Cassian nonetheless remains dead. And all human organics possess a visual likeness to each other, in a sense.

K-2 experiences regret that he doesn’t possess the files destroyed on Scarif along with his old chassis that would have informed him first-hand how it happened. If he had been with Cassian when it happened.

He finds himself simulating such a scenario now – what he could have done to prolong Cassian’s life it at all possible, even at the cost to himself.

Given Cassian is dead, he can only conclude that they must have been separated. Or perhaps, as Mon Mothma had inferred, they were simply overwhelmed.

Projecting such a scenario has his systems overtaxed. Closing the simulation, K-2 deletes it. He can’t explain why doing so should result in it seeming as if Cassian is even _more_ dead somehow.

Impossible.

Mon Mothma is at his side, her expression oddly – compassionate? – as she looks up at him. She must be aware of his glitching.

When K-2 leaves her office, that so-called droid tech is annoyingly waiting outside. Something that might be pain on the man’s face, although K-2 doesn’t care to analyse it enough to find out.

“ _K_ –” The man once again starts. In the sterile light of the corridor, he resembles Cassian enough to seem an imposter.

Something that might be anguish floods K-2’s circuits.

“ _No._ ”

He’s had enough of this farce. He will wait in the tiny room assigned to Cassian on the base – if it is still assigned to Cassian – until he is required. If this man attempts once again to follow him –

Why would he follow him? Why did he the first time? There are too many unanswered questions here.

Nothing is the same and yet, aside from Cassian’s absence along with the rest of their team, nothing has in fact changed.

It must be that fault in his software. In his code. Shutting the door to Cassian’s room on the tech, K-2 crosses over to the place he always used to stand without bothering to raise the lights.

There’s nothing left to see here, after all.

But at least there is also no one present to witness it if, instead of running a deep scan in order to determine what has so badly gone wrong, he simply powers down.


End file.
